On our couch, my husband was kissing his mistress as I returned home from chemotherapy. After making fun of me, he gave me an hour to go “with nothing.” However, karma had other ideas, and he would discover the true meaning of “nothing” in a day.
I was barely able to climb those front steps with my legs. That’s what three rounds of chemotherapy would do. I was still wearing the hospital wristband, which served as a constant reminder of what I had been battling.
“Don’t worry, honey,” my husband Leo had assured me that morning. Just concentrate on improving. “Everything will be handled by me.”
I trusted him. Why wouldn’t I, after five years of marriage? A huge error.
It was easy to turn the key in the lock. Actually, too easily. During the day, Leo typically kept the chain fastened. However, a gentle tune permeated our living room that day. The kind we listened to on Sunday mornings while gently dancing in our kitchen.
For a moment, my heart was lifted. Perhaps he had a delightful surprise in store for me when I got back.
Then I caught sight of them.
On our couch, my spouse was entangled with another woman. Their lips met in a passionate kiss that I hadn’t experienced in months, and they were both completely clothed yet wrapped around each other like teenagers who believed they ruled the world.
